CHAPTER XXIX.
AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL.
Cedric, after making good his escape from the villa, as has been related,had nearly died of hunger on the shore to which he had managed to make hisway. When he was almost at his last gasp, a Saxon galley had touched atthe very spot to supply itself with water. Fortunately for him it wascommanded by a kinsman of his own, who persuaded the crew--the Saxonadventurers had to be dealt with by persuasion rather than by command--toreturn home with their passenger. This probably saved his life; hismother, a skilful leech, whose fame was spread abroad among the dwellerson the coast, nursed him back into health. Still he had suffered long andmuch; and it was not till the summer was far advanced that he was allowedto join an expedition. His noble birth, his reputation for strength andcourage, not a little enhanced, of course, by his late escape, and thepersonal fascination that he exercised on all about him, pointed him out,young as he was, for command.
Carna had been unceasingly in his thoughts since the day when he had lastseen her. During the delirium of his illness her name had been continuallyon his lips, and one of the earliest confidences of his recovery was thestory of his love for this Christian maiden of the west. His mother wastouched by the story. The girl's passionate desire for the welfare of theson that was dead (which she appreciated without comprehending itsmotive), and the very heroism which the son that was living had shown indefending her, combined to move her heart. That any living woman couldresist the attraction of such a champion as her son, she did not believefor a moment, in spite of all that Cedric could say about the height ofsaintliness on which Carna stood; and by degrees the young chief himselffound his worshipping devotion mingled with hopes that were very sweet tohis heart.
It is not surprising, therefore, that as soon as he was at sea, and thedestination of their voyage became a question, his thoughts at once turnedto the island. Approaching it with caution, for he was too good a leaderto risk an encounter with the superior force of the Roman squadron, helearnt with surprise that the Count had departed. Of Carna his informant,a fisherman who found it answer his purpose to give what information hecould to the Saxons, could tell him nothing, and Cedric naturally supposedthat she had gone with the family into which she had been adopted. Thenews struck a strange chill into his heart, but at the same time itrelieved him of considerable perplexity. His course was now clear; if theRomans were gone there was nothing to be feared. He knew the approaches tothe villa, and how weak were its defences, and he felt sure that a Britishgarrison would not be a match for his own vigorous Saxons.
He reached the island two days after the landing of Ambiorix. Acting ashis own spy on the strength of his knowledge of the country, he soon foundout the position of affairs, and thought that he could not do better thanwait to see how things would turn out. The galleys--Cedric had two underhis command--lay in hiding at some little distance from the Haven, andmeanwhile every detail of the struggle was watched, unknown to thecombatants, by scouts who carried news of its progress to their chief. Thegathering of the troops previous to the attack on the fortifications hadbeen observed and rightly understood by these men. Cedric had been at onceinformed of what was in progress, had landed his crews, amounting in allto about two hundred, and marched with all the speed that was possible tothe scene of action. As the news had reached him not long after midnighthe was able to reach the spot very soon after the attack had commenced.
The battle-cry of the Saxons, terrible to those who knew it, scarcely lessterrible, with its shrillness and fierceness, to those to whom it wasstrange, arrested the attention of all, and made every eye turn to therear of the attacking party. There could be seen, running swiftly up theascent which led to the palisade, the band of Saxons. In front a hugestandard-bearer carried a blood-red banner, on which was wrought in blackthe raven of Odin. Behind him came, in a loose order which served toconceal their scanty number, Cedric's warriors, a sturdy race, whose tallstature was made to seem almost gigantic by the height to which their hairwas dressed. They were formidable foes, but still there were brave men inboth the British parties who would have had the courage to stand upagainst them. Unhappily one of the panics which defy all reason and allindividual courage began among the inland Britons at the sight of thesestrange enemies; and, once begun, it could not be checked. Ambiorix,indeed, with a few of his immediate followers, faced the enemy, but wasquickly swept away by the rush of their onset. Martianus, with some of thegarrison, carrying Carna along with him, took refuge in the villa, andhastily secured the doors. Others fled wildly over the country, or hidthemselves in the out-buildings. Nowhere was there any thought ofresistance, and the Saxons won their victory almost without losing a dropof blood.
Cedric's eyes, sharpened as they were by love, had caught a glimpse ofCarna, as she was swept in the throng of fugitives within the doors of thevilla, and he at once led his men to the attack. Any defence of the placeagainst assailants so determined would have been hopeless, even had thegarrison been as resolute as they were, in fact, feeble and demoralized. Afew sturdy blows from Cedric's battle-axe brought the principal door tothe ground, and he rushed across the fragments into the hall, followed bysome ten of his attendants. The rest he had signed to remain without.Carna, who, herself undismayed amidst all the tumult, was surrounded by agroup of terrified men and women, stood facing him. The crimson mounted toher forehead as she met his eyes, for she saw, as no woman could fail tosee, the love that was in them; but she showed no other sign of emotion.
"Spare these poor creatures," she said, pointing to her terrifiedcompanions.
"Your lives are safe," said Cedric in British. "Go with this man," and hepointed to one of his attendants, to whom at the same time he gave somebrief directions. He turned to Carna: "Lady," he said, "this is no timefor many words; and I could not say them if it were, for my tongue isill-taught in your language. But you cannot have failed to see my heart.It is yours, and all that I have. Come and be a queen in my home and amongmy people."
The girl's eyes, which she had turned to the ground at his first address,were now lifted to meet his gaze. "I cannot leave my people," she said.
"Yet," he answered, "the good women of whom you used to tell me, whoselives are written in that holy book of yours, left their own people tofollow their husbands."
"Yes, but the God of the husbands whom they followed was the God whom theyworshipped in their own homes. You worship strange gods, with whom I canhave no fellowship."
"Come with me and teach the truth to my people and me," cried the youngman, feeling that there was nothing which he would not do to win thisbright, brave, beautiful maiden.
"Listen, Cedric," she answered--it was the first time that she had calledhim by his name, and he thought that he had never known before what a nameit was--"You told me some time since that you would sooner go into theeverlasting darkness with your own people than bow the knee to a God whomyou believed to have dealt unjustly with them. It was a noble resolve; andI have honoured you for it. Will you give it up for the love of a woman?If you did, I could honour you no more, and you are too good to have awife that did not honour you. No, Cedric, I will pray for you. Perhaps Godwill hear me, and give you light, and bring us together to the blessedChrist, but it cannot be here."
She caught his right hand which he had reached out in the earnestness ofhis speaking, and lifted it to her lips. Her kiss was the last expressionof her gratitude. And perhaps there was something in it of a woman's love.But she never faltered for one instant in the resolve that was to separatethem.
Behind Cedric stood a burly, middle-aged warrior, his father'sfoster-brother. He had watched the scene with an intense interest, andthough of course he could not understand what was said, had a very shrewdnotion of the turn which affairs were taking. Perhaps he saw, too,expressed in the girl's tone something of a feeling which the young manwas too rapt in his adoration to observe. Anyhow, he was ill-content thathis young chief should miss the bride on wh
om his heart was set, and whoseemed so worthy of him.
"A noble maiden!" he whispered to Cedric, "and fit to be the wife andmother of kings; and I think that she loves you. Shall we carry her off? Iwarrant that it will not be long before she forgives us."
"Peace!" said Cedric, turning fiercely upon him, "Peace! Would you have mewed a slave? My wife must come to me freely, or come not at all."
He spoke to Carna again. "Your will is my law. If you say that we mustpart, I go. But, lady, you must leave this house. My people are set uponburning it, and I could not hinder them, if I would."
Without another word, she obeyed his bidding, and passed into the court,followed by Cedric and his attendants.
Meanwhile some of the Saxon crews had been busy with their torches, andthe flames were beginning to gain a mastery over the building. Before manyminutes had passed the sheds and outbuildings, which were, to a greatextent, constructed of wood, were in a blaze, while dense volumes of smokerolled out of the windows of the villa itself. Carna stood spellbound bythe sight, at once so terrible and so grand. The spectacle of a burninghouse exercises a curious fascination even on those for whom it means lossand disaster, and Carna, even in that supreme crisis of her life, couldnot help gazing at the conflagration, and even admiring unconsciously thesplendid contrasts of light and darkness which it produced.
It seemed as if that day was about to sweep away all her past. She hadtorn from her heart her half-acknowledged love; she saw the home of herchildhood and youth vanishing into smoke and ashes; and now another actorin the bygone of her life was to disappear for ever.
Martianus had observed the scene from the chamber in which he had takenrefuge, and had misunderstood it. He fancied that the girl, whom, thoughno formal betrothal had bound her to him, he regarded as his own, wasgoing of her own accord with this Saxon robber, in whom, of course, herecognized the champion who had saved her life at the Great Temple. Thethought stung him to madness. With all his foppery and frivolity, he hadthe courage of his race. He might probably have escaped unnoticed from theburning building. But, disdaining flight, he rushed at Cedric, heedless ofthe odds which he was challenging.
The chief's followers, knowing their master's temper, stood aside to letthe conflict be decided without their interference. It was fierce, but itwas brief. Martianus was a skilled swordsman, but a life of indolence, ifnot of excess, had slackened his sinews and unsteadied his nerves. Heparried some of his antagonist's blows with sufficient adroitness, but hisdefence grew weaker and weaker, and he could not save himself from one ortwo severe wounds. Giving way before the fierce, unremitting attack of hisantagonist, he came without knowing it to the edge of the well, stumbledover the raised parapet that surrounded it, and fell headlong into itsdepths.(62)
The sight of the conflict had diverted Carna's attention from the burninghouse. She did not wait to see its issue, but at once quitted theprecincts of the villa. Some of the survivors of the garrison, the oldpriest and his wife, and the rest of the non-combatants, followed her. Notonly did they feel that it was she who had saved them from the swords ofthe Saxons, but they recognized in her calmness and courage the qualitiesof a true leader, and were sure that they could not do better than followher guidance. Her own plans had been formed for some time. She saw thatthe strength of Britain was in the great cities. If the country,disorganized as it was, was to be made capable again of order andself-defence, the impulse must come from them, the centres of its civiland religious life. Londinium, where the Count's name was well-known andrespected, and where she had some connections of her own, was herdestination. There she hoped to be able to do something for her people.
The first step was to leave the neighbourhood of the villa, and with thehelpless companions who now, she saw, looked to her for guidance, to makeher way to the north of the island, and from thence to the mainland.Making a short pause till the stragglers had come up, she addressed a fewwords of counsel and comfort to the fugitives.
"Dear friends," she said, "God has delivered us from the hands of theheathen, and will bring us safe to the haven where we would be. But thisis no place for us. We will go to where we may serve Him in peace andquietness."
Her clear, firm tones, which seemed inspired with all the confidence of anunfaltering faith, seemed to breathe in their turn new courage into theterrified crowd. They received them with a murmur of assent, and withoutan expression of fear or doubt, followed her as she led the way to thesummit of the neighbouring downs.
Arrived at this spot, she paused and turned, as if to take a last look atthe scenes in which her past life had been spent. The landscape lay calmand smiling about her. Every feature in it was familiar to her eyes; therewas not one with which she had not some happy association. But now thesight had lost its power; her soul was occupied with more profoundemotions. The home of her childhood lay beneath her feet, a blackenedruin; and there, upon the sea, could be seen flashing in the sunlight theoars of the Saxons' departing galleys.
It was a contrast full of significance, and the girl, in whose pure andenthusiastic soul there seemed to be something of a prophetic power,caught some of its meaning. That ruined house was the past, the days ofthe Roman domination. It had had its uses, it had done its work, but ithad become corrupt and feeble, and it was passing away for ever. And thefuture was there, symbolized in the Saxon ships that, brightened by thesunshine, were speeding their way, instinct, as it seemed, with a vigorousand hopeful life, across the waters. That was the new power that was toshake this worn-out civilization, and raise in the course of the ages afair fabric of its own.
For the moment the present, with all its misery and desolation, masteredthe girl's spirit with an overpowering sense of loss. Thoughts of herruined home, her helpless country, and her own personal loss, thoughalmost unacknowledged to herself, in the final parting with the young heroof her life, came upon her with a force which broke down all herfortitude. She covered her face with her hands and wept.
Then her fortitude and her conscience reasserted themselves. "Courage, myfriends," she cried, "God hath not deserted us, nor our dear country. Wehave sinned much, and we shall have much to bear. But He has chosen thisland for a great work, and He will make all things work together for goodtill He has accomplished it." She was silent for a few moments. When shebegan to speak again, some mighty inspiration seemed to carry her beyondthe present and out of herself. "Yes," she cried, "God hath great thingsin store for this dear country of ours. I see a great blackness ofdarkness. From many houses, great and fair, where the rulers of the landlived delicately, shall go up to heaven the smoke of a great burning, andthe fields shall be untilled and desolate, and the rivers shall run redwith blood. But beyond the darkness I see a light, and the light shinesupon a land that is fair as the garden of the Lord; and therein I beholdgreat cities thronged with men, and in the midst of them stately houses ofGod, such as have never yet been built by skill of human hand. And thepeople that work and worship there are not of our race, nor yet whollystrange. For the Lord shall make to Himself a people from out of them thatknow Him not, even from the rovers of the sea; they that pull down HisChurch shall build it again, and they shall carry His name to many lands,for the sea shall be covered with their ships; and they shall rule overthe nations from the one end of heaven to the other."
Carna on the Hillside.]
She sank upon her knees, and remained wrapt in prayer, while the crowdstood round and watched her with awe-stricken faces. When she rose againto her feet she was calm. Resolutely she set her face from the scene ofher past life, and went her way to meet the future that lay before her.
The Count of the Saxon Shore; or The Villa in Vectis. Page 31
